


Further Memories

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Sussex Retirement [3]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4529889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter from Mycroft brings back further memories for both Holmes and Watson</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remember When We Received News About Mycroft

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's Older Not Dead "Remember When" prompts

The morning mail had arrived and Holmes was perusing a letter from Mycroft. Suddenly he gave a short bark of laughter. I looked up from the newspaper and quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

“Mycroft is laid up with gout,” he explained.

“That was probably inevitable,” I replied, “But I fail to see why your brother’s affliction should amuse you so much.”

“He writes Bunbury thoroughly approves of the arrangement and is spending the greater part of the day asleep on his lap.”

With that I shared Holmes’ amusement as we both remembered events which had happened nearly ten years before.

***

At that time it was not unusual for Holmes to received telegrams, for in the middle of a case he would send and receive a number in the course of his investigation. Mrs Hudson had grown tired of walking up the stairs to bring yet another missive and had taken to sending the boy straight up to us. Therefore I took little notice when once more the door was hammered on and the boy shouted “Telegram for Mr Holmes.”

It was not until Holmes uttered a single “Oh!” and sat down heavily in his chair that I looked up.

“What is it?” I asked.

He read the telegram to me. “Serious concerns about your brother. Come at once. Willoughby.”

I was instantly on my feet. “I’ll come with you,” I said, “Unless you would rather I didn’t.”

“No, my dear fellow, your presence will be much appreciated.”

It occurred to me some might look askance at my presence with Holmes, which was close to a husband accompanying his wife.

Holmes clearly discerned my thoughts, for he added, “Willoughby is my brother’s physician, I am sure he will not object to a second doctor being present.”

In the cab, although Holmes sat perfectly still I could see him turning over the situation in his mind. He has often told me it is foolish to hypothesise before one is in possesion of all the facts, but where family is concerned it is extremely hard not to do so.

When we arrived in Pall Mall we alighted from the cab and Holmes led the way to his brother’s lodgings. He was greeted by the housekeeper, who seemed pleased to see him, although upon learning I was a doctor her reception turned frosty.

I followed Holmes up the stairs to find to my surprise Mycroft sitting in an armchair by the window. It was true his foot was elevated on a low stool, but I could see no other ailments which would merit such an urgent summons.

I was not the only one to be of that opinion it appeared because Mycroft said, “What brings you here?”

“I received a telegram asking me to come,” Sherlock replied.

“ _I_ did not send it.”

“I assumed you were not capable.”

“I am having difficulty walking, nothing more.”

“You have had a fall; tripped and badly sprained your ankle.”

Mycroft inclined his head in acknowledgement of Holmes’ deduction.

Willoughby, who was also in the room, had remained silent up to this point, but now he interrupted, “I am glad you have come, Mr Holmes. Your brother is behaving in a most irrational fashion. I believe he may have hit his head when he fell.”

Mycroft scowled at his physician. I decided facing the unexplained wrath of the housekeeper would be preferable to becoming involved in the forthcoming argument, and went to see if there was any tea.

Long experience of soothing Mrs Hudson after one of Holmes’ more extreme experiments stood me in good stead. I smiled politely at the housekeeper, apologised for not knowing her name and offered to carry the tea tray upstairs to save her the trouble.

“Thank you,” she replied, “but I can manage.” When I hesitated she added, “It’s not quite ready. If you want to take a seat and wait you’re welcome to do so.”

I sat down and while I waited I surveyed the room. A pair of bright eyes looked at me from under the table. I was surprised to see a kitten, but there was no reason why the housekeeper shouldn’t have a cat; presumably even the backbone of the British government suffered from mice on occasions.

Once the tea was ready the housekeeper asked if I would mind opening Mycroft’s door for her, since the tray was now laden. I willingly agreed and led the way. We entered into his rooms, the housekeeper following in my footsteps, and trotting behind the pair of us was the kitten, little tail standing upright.

As soon as the kitten saw Mycroft it sped across the room and leapt into his lap. Mycroft began to stroke the kitten, which purred loudly.

“You see,” Willoughby proclaimed loudly, “evidence of an unstable mental state.”

Holmes looked closely at his brother. “You tripped over the kitten,” he said. “A stray, which you then decided to take in. Dr Willoughby, this may not be the kind of behaviour you expect from my brother, but I can assure you he remains in full possession of all his wits.”

The physician looked unconvinced, but sensing he was no match for the combined force of the two Holmes’ brothers took his leave.

***

Bunbury had since grown from a small kitten into a large cat, but his favourite spot remained sleeping on Mycroft’s lap.

Much as I knew Mycroft liked Bunbury’s company I suspected he was finding the time was passing slowly. Accordingly, I said, “Have you thought of visiting your brother? It had occurred to me I should visit my publisher, so perhaps we could go up to town together tomorrow.”

“That is a capital idea,” Holmes replied. “I was thinking the same myself.”

 

 


	2. Remember when you thought I was dead (no, the other time)

We travelled to London the following morning. As our train headed to Victoria Station I looked out of the windows at the passing countryside, where the autumnal colours were just starting to show. I made a mental note of the fruits which were ripening on the bushes, wondering whether in the coming days I might pick some blackberries and maybe even some sloes, with the thought of perhaps trying to make sloe gin.

However, as we approached Thornton Heath I averted my eyes. Holmes realised I was looking firmly across the compartment and put his hand on my arm. Carefully I slid my hand to my side and he let his hand fall with my arm and then slid it into mine. No-one glancing into the compartment would notice and yet the reassurance I received as Holmes held my hand was immense.

I have written about my time when I believe Holmes had died at the Reichenbach Falls, and the events in Thornton Heath were nothing by comparison, but nevertheless I still remembered my horror. This time it was not just a friend I believed dead, but a lover.

***

The telegram said starkly, “Explosion Thornton Heath. Fear the worst. Burrows.”

I had not seen much of Holmes for the past few days. He was deeply involved with a case, which had required him to don one of his many disguises and also stay away from our rooms for fear of being followed. He had mentioned being in contact with Inspector Burrows of the Surrey Constabulary and, knowing Holmes concerns regarding the case, the telegram was sufficient to have me grabbing my medical bag before heading for the door.

It was not until I was in the cab, rattling towards the railway station, that I questioned my need for my bag. Perhaps it was the thought of an explosion, or maybe it was an automatic reaction on my part on being summons urgently, either way, if Burrows was correct, I would have no use for it.

At the station I encountered Hopkins and Annie Fuller. Hopkins greeted me and enquired as to my destination. On learning I was going to Thornton Heath he said they too were heading that way. We found a compartment to ourselves. I was not surprised to see Hopkins, who I presumed was involved with the case on behalf of the Metropolitan Police, but had not expected to see Annie. Hopkins explained Annie knew two of her friends had gone with Holmes that morning and learning of the explosion had determined to find out for herself what had happened to them.

We travelled in silence, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts. Hopkins and Annie held hands, which in other circumstances I would have found endearing. Now it only served to remind me of something I would never again have a chance to do.

Burrows greeted us on our arrival. He pointed out the remains of the building which Holmes had believed to be the house the gang were using and where he had been heading. The front half of the house was demolished and a group of men were clearing the rubble in an effort to ascertain whether there were any survivors. A further fall of masonry had injured one of the men and Burrows asked me if I could treat him.

I had started to dress the man’s wounds when there was a call for silence. We all listened and heard regular tapping from one corner of the building. The men instantly moved across and began furiously to move the bricks away. A solid table was revealed, trapped within the rubble. The men lifted the table away and then cheered as those who had hidden underneath it were released.

“Holmes!” I cried and ran towards him, all thought of maintaining restraint forgotten. Fortunately at the same moment Annie recognised her friends and also began to run, Hopkins following her, so no-one noticed my uncharacteristic behaviour.

As soon as I reached them I realised one of the girls was in urgent need of medical attention and as much as I wished to tend Holmes’ wounds, she needed to be my priority. I knelt down next to her.

“I shall need some assistance,” I said.

“I can help you,” Annie replied.

Her friend was seriously injured and I was not sure Annie would cope, but one look at the determination on her face and I was convinced.

I searched in my bag. “It would help if I had more bandages.”

“If I cut my petticoat into strips would that work?” Annie asked.

“Yes,” I said and handed her my scissors.

She pulled up her skirt to enable the removal of her petticoat. I caught a glimpse of Hopkins starting to blush and to distract him asked him to take the other girl away. Although also injured, she could walk with help and I thought it was better she did not have to watch her friend suffer.

With the assistance of my new helper I was able to prevent any further loss of blood and when we had finished I could confirm to Annie that Ethel was out of danger for the moment. She would still need considerable nursing care, and given her station in life I was not convinced she would receive it.

However, Holmes said quietly to me, “It was my fault she was here; I shall ensure she is properly looked after.”

I arranged for Ethel to be carried by a makeshift stretcher and then, with Holmes leaning heavily on me, we made our way back to where Hopkins and Edith were waiting. As we did so we passed a fallen section of the house, which the men had just cleared, to find two girls who had not been as fortunate as Ethel and Edith. The sight was sufficient for Holmes and I to look away.

Annie saw them too, swallowed hard and began to walk as fast as she could, stumbling as she did so. I called to Hopkins, who came running up and caught her just as she fainted. He lifted her up and carried her further away.

When we reached Inspector Burrows we learnt he had been joined by his wife. A kindly woman, who had nursing experience, she had come to see if she could be of assistance. She had taken charge of Edith and promised to escort her to her own sister’s house, were she would be safe.

There was nothing further we could do there. Hopkins promised to obtain the details of the case from Holmes and send them to Burrows. The inspector arranged for a carriage to take us to the station, from where we took the train back to London.

Holmes remained stoical on the journey, but it was clear he was in considerable pain. I was concerned I would not be able to convey Holmes back to Baker Street, but fortunately Hopkins offered his assistance.

As we approached the station, Annie said quietly, “I am very sorry for all the trouble I have caused, Dr Watson. I had hoped to be of more help to you; I am sorry to have fainted.”

“My dear girl,” I said. “You have nothing to apologise for. You performed your task admirably, and it wasn’t until afterwards, when your realised what the fate of your friends might have been, that you fainted, which is quite understandable.”

“Thank you, sir. You are very kind.”

“Not at all. In fact I was wondering whether I could prevail upon you to provide a little more assistance. Mrs Hudson won’t be back until this evening, so would you be able to make us some tea whilst I tend to Holmes?”

“Of course, sir, I’d be delighted to.”

Hopkins helped me to take Holmes to his room, before returning to the Yard. Annie remained and not only made the tea, but also provided a light supper, before she too left, promising to return the following day to see if we needed any further help.

I had not wished to mention it to her, but I too had been upset at the death of the two girls. It was not hard to imagine it could have so easily been Holmes’ body lying crushed on the ground, had they not found the table to hide under.

***

I was so deep in my memories I had not noticed we had nearly reached our destination until I realised Holmes was calling my name. I shook myself to clear away the sombre thoughts. Holmes had survived and we were even now enjoying a retirement together which when I was in Thornton Heath I would have thought an impossible dream.


End file.
